


Molten Gold

by JamtheDingus



Series: Hunk Ship Week, 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, Hugs, Humans Are Weird, M/M, Touch-Starved, day 1: warmth/strength, hunkshipweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 07:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: For Hunk Ship Week, Day 1: Warmth/Strength-He’s lifted off the ground, arms around his waist, and for one chilling moment, he thinks he’s angered the yellow paladin.It’s uncomfortable enough, being so close to someone so suddenly, that Lotor nearly lashes out. He expects to be shoved to the ground, forced to defend himself, but, no— Hunk just twirls him around and laughs in his ear, loud and joyful. “You won!”---Hunk gets up in Lotor's personal space alot, but Lotor doesn't find himself minding that much.





	Molten Gold

**Author's Note:**

> i totally forgot how to tag on ao3 and its only been like three months
> 
> happy hunk ship week, ft my favorite headcanon that everyone ever falls in love with hunk atleast a Little bit when they meet him, lotor included.

Lotor falls for the boy in yellow before he realizes it even happens.

He wakes up one day, in a bed not his own, with heavy arms wrapped around him. He watches as Hunk’s chest rises and falls almost in tandem with the soft pulsing blue outlining his quarters, filling the room with its artificial warmth.

He realizes, as he presses a kiss against Hunk’s nose to stop him from snoring (or maybe just because he has the opportunity to), that he is inalienably in love with him.

 

\---

 

Lotor stumbles upon Hunk quite by accident one night. The others are supposed to be asleep— or atleast in their rooms, according to what Coran says humans do— but Hunk is curled in his seat, tinkering at a small device in his hands.

He’s so focused on tinkering that he doesn’t notice Lotor hiding in the corner. Lotor peeks at him, blending with the shadows as he cautiously follows the borders of the room until he gets close enough to see what Hunk is doing.

Hunk is mumbling softly to himself, one hand twirling some sort of tool and the other fiddling with his headband. The soft whirr of machinery echoes through the chamber, but Hunk seems unbothered by the occasional hiccup in the gears.

He flips a switch, and the gravity turns off.

Lotor absolutely does _not_ yelp in surprise. It’s more of a startled gasp, if anything.

Hunk’s attention is pulled by it nonetheless, and he fumbles with the device enough that it floats a few paces away from him before he thinks to grab it and flip the gravity back on. “Sorry!”

They both land on their feet, but Hunk has to catch himself on his desk so he doesn’t crash on his chair. “Didn’t hear you come in.” His hand is pressed against his chest— something the paladins do often whenever they’re surprised to find Lotor behind them— but he still levels Lotor with a smile. “Need something?”

“I thought humans were meant to be sleeping now.” Lotor says, carefully.

Hunk shrugs a shoulder, reaching for his toolbox to clean up. “I just wanted to finish up, but I got a little distracted. Artificial gravity is _incredible_ , man.”

“I see.” Lotor didn’t understand the fascination, but he also didn’t want to hear about it, either. Still, despite himself, he continues on with, “I didn’t realize you were a scientist.”

“An engineer, technically. Pidge is more the science-y type— plus she has the hair for it.” Hunk rakes his fingers through his own hair, fluffing it out until it was tangled in his headband. Then, Hunk squints up at Lotor with a conspiratory whisper of, “So do you, actually.”

“I wasn’t aware hair was a determinant.” Lotor has to resist reaching up to tuck it behind his ear as he’s ushered closer, leaning over Hunk’s shoulder. He presses his hand down upon it, to keep himself steady, but he doesn’t miss the way Hunk’s eyes dart over to his fingers.

He doesn’t mention it, though, so Lotor doesn’t move his hand away.

“Speaking of being science-y,” Hunk begins, cracking open the lid of his device. “You wouldn’t mind helping me real quick? I was going to get Pidge in the morning, but since you’re here…” He shrugs, the opposite shoulder as not to knock Lotor away.

And, well, it’s not like Lotor has much else to do in the middle of the night.

 

\---

 

The middle of the night leads to the early morning, but Lotor finally finishes with his assessment and repair of Hunk’s gravity controller. It was an incredible build, really. The only thing missing that stopped it from working the way he’d wanted was just a matter of mechanics (and hacking), but it was a good thing Lotor was a man of many skills.

Now Hunk would be able to have whatever (or whomever) he wanted float to the nearest sun. Or, just to the ceiling. Whichever was closest.

He isn’t able to tell as much to the engineer, though, because Hunk is sound asleep in the corner. Lotor was so wrapped up in the work he doesn’t even remember when he’d wandered over there.

Hunk has his knees hugged to his chest, squeezing himself down in an uncomfortable looking ball, but his spine is lax like jelly and his breathing is deep, so it must be doing something for him.

Lotor finds Hunk’s abandoned data-pad and scribbles out a quick note for him to find when he wakes, leaving it atop the tiny cube. He writes and rewrites it enough times that the words blur together, stuck between something sentimental and not, before he decides on a simple ‘This should work. - Lotor’ and wipes his hands of it.

When he turns back to Hunk, he’s managed to shove his headband further up his scalp, sprawling his hair out much like a bird’s feathers mid-flight. Lotor feels his mouth warble in a near smile, which he hurriedly shoos away as he takes his leave.

Still, though, a warm feeling settles in his heart as that image stitches itself in his brain and refuses to leave.

 

\---

 

Some other day, a long time after his and Hunk’s midnight rendezvous, Lotor follows the princess to the common room.

She’d insisted that he and the paladins meet in a more relaxed environment, to _bond_. Lotor hardly saw the point of it, but he could hardly say no to her either.

Most everyone in the castle seems to have converged on the couch. Shiro and Keith have squatted off to the side, the latter on the floor and the former on the couch. Keith’s eyes are half shut with a grin as Shiro struggles to braid his hair, but that’s hardly the main attraction to this event.

In front of the viewscreen— a television, as they call it— are Lance, Pidge, and, of course, Hunk. They’re playing some sort of game with loud colors, and Coran seems to be cheering them on (or rather, cheering Pidge on. Seems she’d pulled into the lead and refuses to let it go.)

Lotor watches from the sidelines as Hunk soundly slaps Lance on the back as he pulls ahead of him. It’s apparently a friendly gesture, because Lance reaches over to hook his arm around his neck and give him what they call a ‘noogie’, effectively knocking the controller from his hands.

Which, apparently, is _also_ a friendly gesture.

Lotor had no idea it was going to be such a spectacle, or else he would’ve stayed on the bridge. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued, though.

Allura leaves his side to plop next to Shiro, teasing him by the looks of it. “Braid me, next?” To which, Shiro flusters but eventually agrees to.

Which, unfortunately, leaves Lotor alone in a group filled with factions he’s not a part of. Lotor shifts his weight from one leg to the other, but that only catches the attention of Hunk. _Of course_.

“Hey! Welcome to the party.” Hunk ushers him closer, similar to last night, and pats the spot beside him. He seems to have been completely knocked out of the race after Lance’s stunt, but he doesn’t seem angry about it. How peculiar.

“Hello.” Lotor greets. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Wanna try?” Hunk dangles the controller, moistened with the sweat from his palms even through his gloves.

Lotor bares his teeth in a grimace. “No.”

Hunk leans in anyway, pressing their shoulders together. “C’mon, don’t be a party pooper! Let me show you how to play.”

Uncaring of Lotor’s personal space— or perhaps, he didn’t realize he was encroaching in it so much— Hunk drapes himself across his shoulders and steadies the controller in his palms. “It’s partially motion-controlled, so you’re gonna have to rock a little.”

The character on-screen respawns, hopping on their vehicle, and Lotor belatedly realizes that they’re playing some sort of racing game.

Pidge and Lance are merciful on them and let Hunk help Lotor practice while they take a water break, which leaves Lotor with nothing else to focus on other than the fingers pressing against the back of his hand, smaller but thicker than his own, and the intense heat at his back that threatens to run him through.

“Lean a little to the right.” Hunk murmurs, arms tightening around Lotor’s shoulders as he tilts the both of them. “You wanna do it early, so you can drift.”

Lotor hums thoughtfully, acutely aware of the faint tickle of breath across the crown of his head.

The quick run through of the controls are simple enough to remember, but it’s all too soon that Hunk is pulling away to join Coran as the audience. “You can do it, Lotor!”

His cheeks feel warm as he glances away from the beaming grin offered to him, and he hopes it doesn’t show past the glowing, pulsing neons from the screen.

 

\---

 

Lotor ends up winning.

Turns out that being the underdog helps just as much virtually as it did in his past. Pidge and Lance were so busy competing with one another that he slid right past them on the second lap, and stayed far ahead three laps later.

It didn’t help that he kept getting _incredibly_ lucky with the items randomly generated for him. Lance had loudly screeched something about hacking, but Lotor was too distracted with Hunk yelling instructions from behind him to respond.

He wins, his little beaten buggy puttering across the finish line just as Pidge steals second place from Lance, and the resulting cacophony leaves him reeling.

Pidge jumps up with some sort of victory scream, just as Lance shouts curses at her. They elbow into one another’s space, sweaty and full of adrenaline, and Lotor wonders if this is how they act after a successful battle.

Coran is there to toss towels over their heads, cooling them off, and Allura chimes in with something diplomatic that Lotor misses because Hunk is there, suddenly.

He’s lifted off the ground, arms around his waist, and for one chilling moment, he thinks he’s angered the yellow paladin. It’s uncomfortable enough, being so close to someone so suddenly, that Lotor nearly lashes out. He expects to be shoved to the ground, forced to defend himself, but, no— Hunk just twirls him around and laughs in his ear, loud and joyful. “You won!”

He gives him a firm squeeze that wrings a surprised grunt from him. The tight grip is maybe… kind of pleasant. Not so tight to break a bone, but secure nonetheless. He leans into it, stiffly, _politely_ , but it’s over before he has a chance to get used to the soft heat radiating from the human’s skin.

Hunk turns to his friends, bragging about his ‘apprentice’, but his smile stays in Lotor’s mind.

He makes a swift exit.

 

\---

 

“You’re avoiding me.” Hunk accuses him, a few weeks later. Then, he winces at his tone and backs up a step and a half.

Lotor is startled enough that he doesn’t have a response ready at the tip of his tongue. That happens a lot, when he’s around Hunk.

He was in the kitchen, somewhere he frequented regularly. Lotor didn’t know why he didn’t avoid the place better, but he was self-aware enough to realize he missed watching Hunk move.  

“I get it, I think.” Hunk confesses, stirring a bowl of something thick and crunchy. “Shiro said I was in your personal bubble too much. Didn’t even realize it was happening, actually.” He tastes a bit of the mix, sticks out his tongue in displeasure, and adds a few more sprinkles of seasoning. “You gotta let me know if I do it again. I don’t wanna ruin our friendship, you know? We’ve just started talking!”

Friends. “Of course not, Yellow Paladin. It wasn’t a problem, I’ve just been…” Lotor racks his brain for an excuse, but all that comes out is a lame, “Busy.”

Hunk fixes him with a look, eyes half-lidded in the most expressionless of expressions as he shakes his head. “Sure.”

Lotor’s hand twitches as he forces it still, lest he reach forward to rub away the barely-there wrinkles between Hunk’s eyebrows from the look on his face. He’s in deeper than he first thought.

Hunk rambles on a bit longer, oblivious to the fond look creeping across Lotor’s face until he finishes measuring out the biscuits and arranging them on the tray.

When he turns around, Lotor belatedly snaps out of it. “I’ll… leave you to it, then.”

“Uh, but first…” Hunk hurries to intercept him, blocking the doorway as he unties his apron. “I just want you to know that I won’t get mad if you tell me I’m all in your cheese, you know?”

The strange phrasing makes Lotor smile, as reserved as it is. “Of course, my friend. I don’t mind your touching.”

Hunk’s relieved grin makes him go giddy in the chest, which is soon overthrown by his nerves as Hunk extends his arms on either side, for a hug.

And really, he doesn’t mean to be nervous. It may be one part reactionary, where in his past touching another has _not_ been friendly, and it may be two parts that Hunk just makes him _nervous_. It makes him want to curl up inside himself and shield away from the intense heat Hunk offers.

Lotor steps closer nonetheless. Hunk is shorter than him by quite the amount, enough that Lotor would have to lean down so that his arms could wrap around his shoulders. Hunk doesn’t ask for that, though, and seems perfectly content to squeeze his face against Lotor’s chest and run his heavy fingers down Lotor’s spinal cord.

It’s electric across his skin, even through his layers of clothing, burning a path straight through his veins. Not just where his hands pass, but where Hunk’s arms are hooked around his sides, where their legs knock together, where his head rests just between Lotor’s two hearts.

He stiffens. It’s habit, maybe, or maybe the feelings get too overwhelming for him to hide. Hunk gently urges him _closer_ still, guiding Lotor’s hands wrap across his back, to hug him back.

“You’re kinda bad at this.” Hunk teases, muffled beneath the fabric. It doesn’t sound as poisonous as the words should mean, so Lotor takes no offense from them.

Instead, as Hunk angles his head up to look him in the eye, he offers him a strained smile. “I’ve not had many hugs in my lifetime, so you must forgive me.”

That look alone, paired with a lonely smile, tugs at Hunk’s heartstrings until they weep, but the softly spoken confession does nothing less of emotional murder. He squeezes tighter, until Lotor gets winded.

“Well…” Hunk starts, testing the words thrice over on his tongue before he throws them out, “I guess that just means I’ll have to pick up the slack.”

 

\---

 

Lotor learned after that encounter that when the Yellow Paladin makes a promise, he goes through with it until the end.

They meet privately, mostly because Lotor was too embarrassed (read: anxious) to be seen so vulnerable in front of so many people at once, and Hunk respects that.

Their hands tangle sometimes, in the shadows when they sit next to one another. Hunk had once described it as a ‘hand-hug’ and had even showed him how they did it on earth— using the thumbs as arms to wrap around one another’s palm. It was pointless in the best of ways, but Lotor had melted at the sentiment anyway.

Somehow that had extended further, before Lotor even realized how far in they were. Hunk often led him to his personal room, distracted with a story from his past or about something silly another paladin had done the day prior.

It was… domestic. An entirely new thing for Lotor to experience, and more was thrown at him until he was soon snugly pressed against Hunk’s side one night, half-dozing as Hunk chatters about his day. His head is cushioned against the soft firmness of Hunk’s arm, and his own are wrapped around Hunk’s midriff.

(“Like a kid and his teddy bear.” Hunk had once teased, carding his fingers through Lotor’s sleep tangled hair.)

He isn’t exactly sure what prompts it, and for that he blames how comfortable Hunk is to drowse against, but Lotor finds himself dipping low to press a kiss against the exposed part of Hunk’s shoulder, chest rumbling in a content purr.

He freezes when Hunk does; pulls back when Hunk sits up, but Hunk only rolls over onto his side to look him in the face and to cup his hand against Lotor’s cheek and pull him close. Their foreheads press together, and Lotor can acutely feel Hunk’s heartbeat pick up just from being near his temples.

The gentle touches, as if Hunk is careful not to scare Lotor away, makes him flustered, but he basks in it anyway. Fingers trace the pointed shape of his ears, prompting them to twitch until Hunk has passed them by. A thumb traces along his jaw, straying high enough to smooth out the creases of his lips as Hunk studies him.

Hunk leans forward to kiss him. On the forehead, where they’d been pressed together, and it leaves Lotor’s chest so feverish that his hearts drown in it, sweltering like Hunk had ignited stars beneath his ribcage. He never wants to leave this moment.

They fall asleep like that, Lotor first because _stars_ Hunk is so comfortable.

And when Lotor wakes, watching Hunk breathe and pressing a kiss against his nose, he doesn’t resist the lovestruck smile that steals its way on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to check out hunk ship week [here](http://hunkshipweek.tumblr.com/)!!!! it's gonna be a fun one


End file.
